


I'll Still Love You

by deadlydecember1214



Series: The Losers Of ‘89 Were Here [12]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Anxiety, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, M/M, aged-up fic, college fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:14:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24406387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadlydecember1214/pseuds/deadlydecember1214
Summary: He was going to fail out of college. He just was. Apparently, he peaked intellectually in high school because how else could one explain a valedictorian failing a History quiz? He’d never fucking failed anything in his life... well, in school and now he was going to flunk out of NYU, his dream school. (Eddie is having a hard time adjusting to college life)
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: The Losers Of ‘89 Were Here [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/881991
Comments: 1
Kudos: 37





	I'll Still Love You

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by my own total meltdown when I very first started college a couple years back, down to the calling my mother crying multiple times a week HOWEVER, I did know how to do my own laundry ;)

Eddie walked numbly back across campus, feeling like he might drop into fetal position or burst into tears at any moment. A lump had formed in the back of his throat about an hour ago and no matter how many time he swallowed, he couldn’t get rid of it.

He was going to fail out of college. He just was. Apparently, he peaked intellectually in high school because how else could one explain a valedictorian failing a History quiz? He’d never fucking failed anything in his life... well, in school and now he was going to flunk out of NYU, his dream school. 

Why did he even fucking need history? He was going to be a nurse! Not a fucking museum coordinator! It was entirely unfair!

Reaching his resident hall, Eddie made his way to the stairs, climbing to the third floor and starting down the long hallway toward the end. He was going to fail history and that would just be the start because obviously he had always only been _high school smart_ not _college smart_ and it was only going to get worse. Soon the grades in his other courses would start coming back too. Fail, fail, fail!

Reaching his dorm, Eddie choked out a sob he’d been holding back since leaving the fucking sciences building — history wasn’t a fucking science... was it? Well how would he know? He was fucking failing it — and used his key to unlock the door.

Darting his eyes over to the other side of the room, he found it mercifully empty. Dropping his backpack to the floor uncharacteristically messily, Eddie crept into his bed and curled up beneath the covers as tears burned his eyes.

He’d made a mistake.

His mother was right, he should have never left Derry. He might as well pack it all up now and go home. He eventually would have to soon enough anyway, wouldn’t he? 

Letting out a mournful moan, he remembered that he’d fucked Richie over as well, hadn’t he? He’d practically fucking forced his boyfriend to follow him to New York and now he couldn’t crack it and Richie... Richie was doing a million times better than him. Richie had already fucking joined a damn band with Mike and was as far as Eddie knew, was at least passing his courses even though he skipped half the time. And Richie hadn’t even wanted to come to New York!

Richie had wanted Los Angeles and Eddie hadn’t and now it was becoming incredibly fucking clear that Eddie should have just let his boyfriend go because apparently there was nothing for him here in New York.

Gipping his comforter, Eddie putted it up over his head and thought for one fleeing moment that he should call his mother. His mother had told him something like this would happen. She’d said he needed her, that he couldn’t succeed on his own, that he was setting himself up to fail by leaving her. Everything she’d said was coming true, wasn’t it?

Peeking out from the covers, he spied the phone sitting on his desk. All he had to do was get up, walk over to it and dial and he knew Sonia Kaspbrak would be there to take him back home to Derry within three or four hours but…

Richie. 

Richie was here now. Here because Eddie had made him come and Richie wouldn’t stay if Eddie left and maybe Eddie was apparently an idiot when it came to history, but even he knew that Richie shouldn’t leave New York. He was doing too well here. Flourishing here. Eddie couldn’t ask him to give all that up, not after he’d already spent his budget of selfishness allowed in a relationship on getting Richie to NYU in the first place. 

The door to the dorm opened as Eddie was still staring at the phone. He glanced over to see Bill, who was his roommate for the year — if he didn’t flunk out that is — striding in. He paused, looking over at Eddie with his eyebrows scrunched together. He reached over and flicked on the light.

Bill sighed, coming in and hanging up his backpack, “I—is there a reason your j—just sitting in the dark alone?”

Eddie groaned, falling back on his bed to stare at the ceiling, fighting back the fresh wave of tears springing to his eyes, “I’m failing history.”

“Okay?” He heard Bill say slowly, questioning, “So?”

“So?!” Eddie cried, sitting up and gaping at Bill, “So, I peaked in high school. I’m going to flunk out and get sent home!”  


Bill quickly looked away and Eddie thought he even saw the other boy trying to hold back a laugh. He squawked in disbelief, slamming his hand down on his mattress, crying out, “Bill! This isn’t fucking funny!”

Bill nodded, turning back to him with a schooled expression, “E—Eddie, it’s not even midterms yet. You have p—plenty of time to bring the grade up. Why are you even worried?”

“You know what,” Eddie snapped, glaring at his long time friend, “Fuck you, Bill, that’s why. Leave me the fuck alone.”

He flipped him the bird before falling back on his bed and rolling away from Bill so his back was to him. 

After a minute, he heard his roommate muttered, “Didn’t even make f—fucking sense.” Quickly followed by footsteps and the door to the dorm opening. Bill paused for a moment, calling over his shoulder, “I—I’m goin’ across the hall, okay?”

Eddie didn’t answer, burying his face in his comforter as tears pooled in his eyes. The dorm door closed again. 

He knew he shouldn’t have be short with Bill, it was himself he was mad at, not his friend. Still, maybe some part of him was angry with Bill, with all the rest of them, even Richie… especially Richie. Why was moving away from home and starting over so fucking easy for all of them? Eddie had spent the last two weeks since term started constantly on the verge of a panic attack and they all seemed fine. Happy even. 

New York had been Eddie’s first, hadn’t it? It had been his dream. He had wanted it, worked through all of high school for it both in school and at a job afterwards. He’d fought so hard for valedictorian because valedictorians got full fucking rides and he’d known that was the only way he could really swing NYU. And he’d worked just in case.

And in two weeks he’d managed to fuck it all up. He didn’t even understand how.

He’d studied for that History quiz. Sure, he hadn’t cancelled plans to watch Richie and Mike’s band rehearse to study but he had still studied. He’d even felt good about the damn thing before turning it in… He wondered if his professor had laughed at his confidence later, grading his failure.

There was a loud, hammering knock on his door and he startled. 

Sitting up groggily, Eddie glanced at the window and noticed the sky was going dark. He realized, blinking slowly, that he must have fallen asleep. Looking over his shoulder at the door, he called, “Bill, I told you to leave me alone!”

The knocking continued without pause and Eddie groaned, pushing the covers off of himself completely and going to the door, throwing it open, “What do you—“ He stopped short, finding his boyfriend leaning against the door jam, inches from his face with his fist still in the air from his insistent knocking. “…Want?” 

Narrowing his eyes, Eddie sighed and crossed his arms over his chest, “Should’ve known. Only you would be so fucking annoying.”

“Aww, you just say the sweetest things to me, Eds,” Richie shook his head, dropping his hand over his heart before pushing off the door jam and passing Eddie into the room, pecking his temple as he did. 

Eddie turned to him, glowering, “I didn’t invite you in.”

“I’m like a vampire,” Richie shrugged, throwing himself down on Eddie’s uncharacteristically messy bed, “You only gotta make the mistake once and I’ll just keep comin’ back.” Leaning back on his arms, he cocked his head at his boyfriend, “You didn’t meet me in the dining hall for dinner.”

“I was tired,” Eddie shrugged, still standing back as he rolled his neck, “And not that hungry.”

Richie nodded, “And then when I went back to my dorm, Stanley had written a B in the corner of the whiteboard on our door.”

Eddie stared at him blankly, “What the fuck does that mean?”

Richie smirked, playfully raising his eyebrows suggestively, “It’s our code. When we got someone in the dorm and the other isn’t supposed to interrupt, we write B or E. Well, He writes B for Billiam and I write E for my Eddie Spaghetti.”

Eddie shook his head, “Well, I guess it’s classier than a fucking sock on the door.”

“That’s almost exactly what Stan said when I suggested we just do that,” Richie laughed and sat up, “My point is that if Bill’s in my room and you skipped dinner, that means you’re just sitting in here all alone. I came to keep you company.”

“Ever consider I just want to be left alone?” Eddie grumbled, going to sit at his desk.

Richie watched him, cocking an eyebrow, “Please, like your day doesn’t brighten every fucking time you see me, Eds.”

“Don’t call me that!” Eddie snapped and spun around in his chair to glare at his boyfriend, “And if I wanted to see you, I’d have met you at the dining hall.”

“Ouch…” Richie muttered, dropping his smirk, “Okay? Why are you pissed at me?”

“I’m not!” Eddie shook his head angrily and turned around again so his back was to his boyfriend, “I just— I told you, I wanted to be alone.”

“Okay but _alone_ doesn’t usually count me, too,” He heard Richie argue and the sound of his mattress springs shifting as Richie stood up. He felt his shoulders slump and put his head down, pinching the bridge of his nose before whirling around.

“Rich! Wait!” He called out, dropping his hand.

Richie turned around and gave him a look. Eddie knew he didn’t like being sent away which was one of the reasons Eddie very rarely did, at least not for real. He got mad sometimes and he told Richie to fuck off sometimes but he never meant it… Usually he was just upset with himself, like now.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie sighed, shaking his head and looking at his feet, “I’m not pissed at you. I’m not… I just had a really shitty day and— and I’m failing history.”

He felt tears prickle in his eyes again and swallowed hard, cringing at himself. He could almost hear Henry Bowers voice in his head, mocking him. _Girly boy gonna cry? You gonna cry, girly boy? Well, don’t get your fairy dust on me, freak._

He felt a hand run down his arm and watched Richie’s familiar fingers tangle together with his. Following the arm back to it’s source, he gave his boyfriend an embarrassed, bashful look and sighed, “I’m failing, Richie.”

His boyfriend sighed and gripped his hand tighter, “Get over here, Eds.”  


He pulled Eddie to his feet and lead him to the bed, where Eddie fell into Richie’s arms. He hurried his face in Richie’s chest and breathed in that scent of nicotine, mints, and maybe just a touch of cologne—not particularly good cologne but still instantly Eddie’s favorite. The weight in his chest seemed to lighten there with his boyfriend on his bed, like breathing in Richie’s scent was some kind of natural inhaler to him, opening his lung back up. 

“You’re not failing, Eddie,” He felt as much as he heard Richie mumble into his hair, “One bad grade, does not a failure make. Trust me, I know a thing or two about failing. You’re going to make it up.”

“It’s not like I thought it would be,” Eddie admitted, happy to still be face-to-chest with Richie and not have to look into his eyes.

“What’s not?”  
  
“New York,” He sighed, “College. Living on my own. Any of it. I just— I thought I’d be good at it and I’m just not.”

Richie sighed and moved down to that he was looking into Eddie eyes, their noses nearly brushing. He could feel Eddie’s warm breath on his lips. Blinking slowly, he reached down and laced his fingers with Eddie’s again, bringing them up to lay between their chests. He watched Eddie’s eyes fall to them and smiled just a bit to himself, “What the fuck do you mean, Eds? You’re doing fine.”

“Richie, I’ve called my mother three times this week and it’s Tuesday,” Eddie shook his head and closed his eyes, “I’m failing history even though I’ve been studying like crazy, I haven’t talked to a single person beside the Losers since we moved here and I’m running out of clothes because I can’t fucking figure out how to use the damn washing machine. I fucking suck at this and it seems so easy for you and Bill and everyone else! I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Nothing,” Richie instantly argued, gripping Eddie’s hand more tightly and startling his boyfriend’s eyes back open, “Nothing is wrong with you. You got this, baby,” Eddie’s heart skipped a beat as his eyes flickered back up to meet Richies, “And you don’t need your crazy ass mother to make this work, okay? Cuz the Losers are here and I’m here… And I can teach you how to do your laundry.”

There was a moment where they were both quiet before both breaking into laughter together. Eddie pulled his hand away from Richie, hooking it around his boyfriend’s neck and pulling him forward for a long, deep kiss. Locking his fingers in Richie’s hair, he pulled himself forward with the only thought on him mind being to get closer. He felt Richie’s teeth brush, teasingly, over his lip before biting ever so lightly.

Gasping, he twisted around to straddle his boyfriend and pulled back to look down at the beautiful, perfect mess of a person below him. Fuck, no one else was every going to make him feel like Richie did. No one else was ever going to make his heart race like him or drive him insane like him or challenge him everyday to keep trying like him.

This was _love_. 

This was the stuff that people more talented than he was wrote songs and poems and books about and it was everything to him in that moment. If there was a world where he had to live and function without _this_ , without Richie... that would be one dark, dark place.

Still out of breathe, pupils blown and heart pounding, Eddie gripped his boyfriend’s shirt and barely whispered, “I love you. I really, really do.”

Richie looked up at him with an expression Eddie couldn’t quite place but supposed it could be filed somewhere under _utter devotion_ and nodded, “I love you, too…” His lips curled into a smirk, “Any chance we can have sex before we do the laundry thing, though?”

Eddie laughed, looking away and shaking his head before meeting his boyfriend’s eyes again, lacing their hands back together on their side of Richie’s head, “I think the laundry can wait… Not like it’ll take that long.”

“Damn, that was cold,” Richie gasped in mock pain, squeezing Eddie’s hand tight before flipping them over so that he was on top, “I’ll show you how long it can take.”  


* * *

Two hours later, a freshly showered Eddie and Richie made their way into the muggy laundry room on the ground floor of their resident hall. Richie was carrying Eddie’s hamper and trailing along after his boyfriend, who was carrying the detergent and fabric softener. Scanning his eyes over him, Richie sighed, “Maybe we don’t need to wash your clothes, Eds. I’d be okay if you just wore those shorts for the rest of ever.”

“Beep beep, Trashmouth,” Eddie rolled his eyes, peeking over his shoulder at he set his stuff down and made sure the room was entirely empty out of habit, “Besides, there is literally no way you are still horny after the last few hours.”

Richie grinned, setting down the hamper to wrap his hands around Eddie waist from behind, “Baby, I’m eighteen and a guy; I’m always horny.”

Eddie elbowed him, “Get off me, Perv. We have shit to do.”

“Fine!” Richie exclaimed dramatically as he stepped away, rubbing his ribs where Eddie had gotten him. “So, we need quarters.”

“No shit, huh,” Eddie said in a deadpanned voice.

Richie’s eyebrows shot up, “Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you wanted me to teach you how to be a grown ass man but—“

“I literally would never ask you to teach me that—“

“—If you’re all good in here, I’ll just head back to my dorm—”

“—I’m _barely_ asking you to show me how to work these dumb machines—”

“—If it’s so dumb, then I’m sure you can figure it out—“

“—Stop being a dumbass, Richard—“

“—Richard?! Richard?! Fuck you, Edward!”

A buzzer sounded, startling both of them. 

Sighing, Richie pulled a quarter from his pocket and flipped it to Eddie, who caught it. Glancing down at the coin, he gave him a begrudging smile, “Thanks, _Richard_.”

Richie rolled his eyes, a smile falling upon his lips as he moved forward to grab the hamper filled with clothes, “Okay, now pick a machine, Spaghetti Man.”

After they loaded the clothes, Richie fell into place behind Eddie with his hand on his hips as he murmured instructions in his ear. Eddie let him, half deciding it was probably all harmless anyway and half convincing himself that nobody else would be doing their laundry at 11 o’clock at night. Tangled up like that, Eddie put in the detergent and softener and set the machine to the right cycle. 

Once the wash started up, he turned around to be nearly nose-to-nose with Richie, a pleased smile on his face, “I did it!”

“That you did, Eds, I told you that you didn’t need your hag of mom,” Richie grinned, leaning down to kiss his boyfriend. 

Eddie wrapped his arms around Richie’s neck and kissed him back for a moment before pulling away and whispering, “Thank you… seriously.”

“It’s just part of the boyfriend job description, baby. All good."

“Still...” Eddie sighed, absentmindedly playing with Richie’s hair, “I’m still failing History.”

Richie rolled his eyes before ducking and kissing Eddie, hard and quick, effectively taking his breath away before pulling away, “Yeah, well, I’ll still love you if you have to retake dumbass History.”

“How noble of you,” Eddie’s lips twitched as he peered up into Richie’s eyes through his eyelashes. “Probably one of the things that make me like you so much... even though you’re fucking horny and annoying eighty perfect of the time.”

Ignoring him, Richie kissed him again, holding him against him.


End file.
